


A Dance at Midnight

by rini1031



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F, Fairy Tale Elements, Fairy Tale Retellings, Fairy Tale Style
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-07-17 13:29:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16096622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rini1031/pseuds/rini1031
Summary: A Lesbian Science-Fiction retelling of Cinderella





	A Dance at Midnight

**A Dance at Midnight**

* * *

 

By Royal Decree every seventy years to celebrate the aligning of the planets there was to be a grand festival; this festival was free and open to all: young and old, rich and poor, healthy and ill, and people of all races. While the festival itself was only one day, creatures came from all over the Quadrants for the event, so the local shopkeeps displayed their best and most colourful wares and offered special deals for days before. The inns and food vendors offered live music for their patrons and a wide variety of local and foreign foods were cooked, their aromas mixing in the streets. Throughout the city there were private parties for three days leading to the festival and for the next day after.

  
For those living off-planet who could afford to make the trip, the festival was a chance to visit the Royal Seat, meet other races and people, and see and buy things they usually had no access to. For those living on Planet Eternia, the festival offered either a free day to explore or a day to ply and sell their craft; fortunately for the merchants, around four hundred years ago some creature started a legend that it was good fortune to purchase gifts for one’s friends at the festival. And what crafts: Vrill silver and steel and terstinum blades, hand-tooled Allec leather armour and belts and thongs, books of all kinds – both physical and for holopads, games, moving and still art, jewellery, cloth and clothing of varying colours and quality could all be found at the festival.

  
The most unique and popular part of the festival, however, was the dancing. For many of the magics capable creatures once they came of age, a major part of their youth was spent searching out their one. Since it took physical contact for a creature to identify and begin to bond with their one, dances allowed for contact with many partners also seeking their match, and, while many found their match living not too far from them, there were always those who’s match lived planets or even Quadrants away. Of course, if a creature choose to retain their gloves while dancing no one commented, but, by and large, the festival had always been a place for youth seeking their one.

  
One of these youths was a Terran descendent called Siobhan, who was apprentice to a clothing maker. Siobhan and her mistress had taken a tent at the festival and hoped that they could make both a profit and a name for Siobhan during the week. For months, Mistress Kyla had chosen fabric and patterns for the two of them to sew; Kyla’s one, Afrie created the tent poles and signs and handled the paperwork for the slot. Finally, the ships had started arriving, and the three had gotten to work selling the clothing they had worked so hard on. Already many visitors had attended Kyla’s shop and purchased outfits for the festival and the after-parties. With each purchase, Mistress Kyla made sure to tell the creature that her apprentice had designed or sewn the garment herself. In fact, the little shop off the main way had so many purchases that Siobhan and her mistress had to stay awake most of the night before the festival to replenish their stock. Master Afrie, along with being a Level Six Woodworker, was a Level Two Metalsmith, so he made fastenings for all the garments out of what precious little Cela silver and created copper they could afford.

  
Siobhan knew that she would have to work the festival; her mistress had already put what little money they had into the tent and had even borrowed some on credit. If they did not make back enough profit, there would be nothing to do and they would be forced to turn her out. Naturally, Kyla and Afrie were very fond of Siobhan; they had taken in an apprentice having no children of their own and not being able to afford a proper adoption. Kyla even hoped that she could one day turn the shop over to Siobhan and make a proper merchant and Level Seven out of her, but she had to first make enough money to allow the girl to sit for her mastery exams. Afrie, having once been a connectionless apprentice himself, knew that if Siobhan was turned out now her apprenticeship would be sold to a garment factory on Planet Hertum and never be allowed to advance her standing. The night before the festival no one at Kyla’s shop slept.

  
Finally, dawn broke, filling the sky with greens and blue. Siobhan, Kyla and Afrie made trip after trip down two alleys and seven blocks up the main way to their tent. Afrie left the women to set their wares as he went to fetch the three some food. Upon his return with Danubian seedcakes and Yertish tea, Afrie was greeted to an explosion of colour: gowns, doublets, robes, shirts, trousers, skirts, hoods, embroidered shawls, capes and cloaks in all colours of the light spectrum were assorted on the shelves he had made for their tent. Not even Master Nmemme’s tent – a creature who hired out factory apprentices to make their garments – could compete with his one and Siobhan’s work; Afrie could not have been more pleased with what he saw. All too soon, however, he had to leave to attend the Woodworkers’ Guild table. Before they were separated, Kyla, Afrie, and Siobhan prayed to the Light and its’ immortal King and Queen to bless their table. Privately, Kyla and Afrie added their family, including Siobhan as it’s daughter and heir.

  
For hours Siobhan stood and sold. Even when her mistress needed to rest, she called out for creatures to gather at their table. Siobhan tended each individually, meeting their needs, physiology and colouring, and every creature who approached their table agreed that their work was the best they’d seen and Siobhan was attentive and saw their needs and desires met. But as the Golden Sun rose to its highest point, Siobhan knew they had not sold enough. She would not despair; somehow, Siobhan knew that something would change. The festival was charged with magic, everyone said, so something magical would happen for them.

  
Suddenly, the midday bells rang and the crowd all seemed to desire food and left the merchants’ section. Knowing her mistress needed another break, Siobhan offered to tend the tent while Kyla walked the seven blocks and two alleys to the shop and retrieved their cold dinner. With Kyla gone, Siobhan pulled one final gown and placed it on the front shelf, praying to the Silver Moon that a creature – any creature – would come and buy it. The gown was White-Silver, like the Eternal Moon. It fell to the ground and was hand embroidered with a kind of filigree design. The fabric was Vrill silk and very expensive; Siobhan had saved her living stipend for all the years Mistress Kyla had had her to buy it. But it was worth it. Nothing moved like real Vrill silk; it was both warming and free hanging off the body, and when one spun, the fabric lifted and fell in a graceful motion akin to a moving serenade. This was a dress suitable for a Level Seven proficiency exam, not an apprentice who hadn’t even a Level One to her name. If she could sell this – if by some magic Siobhan could sell this gown before Mistress Kyla returned – they would have enough money to last them the year. Oh, but Mistress Kyla would be sad if she saw the gown and knew that it had to be sold; she would insist that Siobhan keep it for her bonding ceremony and her Levels. So it had to be sold now.

  
Moments passed – long, tense moments – and Siobhan knew Mistress Kyla would return within the next bell, but the way was quiet and those that did still populate it could not afford what Siobhan knew she must ask for the gown. Again, aloud softly, she prayed to the High Queen, the Moon Goddess, that she could sell this gown. She swore she would ask for nothing else. Ever.

  
Siobhan had barely ended her whispered benediction when she saw her; she was fair, with dark hair so black it was nearly blue. Her body was slender, but she was curved and would fit the gown like it was bespoke to her. And she was wealthy, wearing a Cela and Zero prism necklace worth at least ten thousand marks and walking with a guard. Before Siobhan could gather herself enough to stop staring at the beautiful girl long enough to call her over, the woman approached her. She walked straight to Mistress Kyla’s tent and smiled at Siobhan, and, once again, Siobhan had to remind herself not to stare. The woman waited patiently for Siobhan, a small, amused smile on her naturally crimson lips. Finally, finally, Siobhan – blushing – made a small courtesy to the woman and spoke.

  
“Will you buy this gown? It is in you size; I can see that from now. Please, we need the money.” Siobhan could have fainted then and there; she had not meant to be so honest, so needy, but every word was true and fair.

  
“Did you make this?” The woman’s voice was kind, and she spoke as though she already knew the answer. Siobhan felt as though with one look this woman could see right through her and into her most secret thoughts.

  
“I did, although I do not have my Levels.”

  
“Such craft,” the woman murmured, “is a gift, a magic of sorts. I do not doubt that in time you will be a Seven.”

  
“I will never, not unless I can sell this gown and make enough money for my Mistress to remain open.” Siobhan had already been honest once over polite, and the woman seemed oddly more open with her for it, so she thought she had nothing to lose by once again being truthful.

  
“She is not here, your mistress. She does not know what you are doing, does she?” Siobhan had been blushing since she had first seen the woman, but now she felt her cheeks grow even hotter. Before she could reply, the woman laughed, softly and warmly, and Siobhan knew that she was not insulting her.

  
“What do you ask for the gown?”

  
“I..” Siobhan trailed off. Perhaps she was wrong, she thought, and the woman would flinch from her at the price. Then, she would feel obligated to leave the tent, or, worse, she would by another gown, one not as perfect for her, out of guilt for Siobhan’s desperation. She was staring at her now, with that look that could see right through Siobhan’s heart, but her eyes were gentle.

  
“Will fourteen thousand marks suffice?”

  
That was over three hundred times what the fabric had cost her. Siobhan could not speak.

  
“I can afford it, little Mistress; do not worry. I see a future for you, and, besides, it is clear you put your soul into this gown.”

  
Siobhan looked down at the dress for the last time, ran her fingers over the perfect stitching. For a second, she knew the woman was right. She had placed her heart in this gown and doubted if she could sell it, even for that many marks, but Siobhan also knew that the gown belonged with this woman, so she went to lift her gloved hand. Surprisingly, the woman’s bare hand moved to cover hers.

  
“Thank you. I will treasure this gown.” At her words and touch, warmth shot through Siobhan. If she hadn’t known it wasn’t possible, she would have thought that they matched, but rich, beautiful women like her only matched with royalty and the like. Some Vrill Prince or Turubian Princess or Xilixit Noble would surely claim the woman’s hand at the dancing tonight and become her one.

  
Removing her hand, the woman gestured for her silent guard to transfer the marks on his holopad as Siobhan folded and wrapped the gown and two other and a shawl for her customer. When the woman went to comment, Siobhan only blushed and shook her head.  
“You have done me such a kindness; give them as festival gifts if you like.”

  
“No; I will keep them. If you insist on offering more, that green tunic will suit my brother, but I ask only for that and a smile. And, perhaps a dance, if your mistress will allow.” Again, Siobhan blushed, but packed the tunic with the others and nodded, too happy and embarrassed to speak.

  
As soon as she handed the woman the package, the next bells rang, and, as if a spell had been broken, the way came back to life. With a fleeting smile, the woman turned and seemed to vanish in the now thickening crowd. Siobhan craned her neck to try to watch her for as long as she possibly could. Her mistress’ amused snort brought Siobhan back to the front of the tent.

  
Kyla was wearing a fond smile and carrying the dinner bag with Siobhan’s portion. She begged Siobhan’s forgiveness for her delay, but the oddest thing had happened: she had reached the shop and had suddenly found the urge to nap too strong to resist. She had ended up sleeping past the half-bell and nearly to the quarter-to bell. With a gently shove, Kyla released Siobhan to enjoy the festival and her meal. But, for all the festival’s glory, Siobhan found she only wanted to see the dance, which only happened at night, and, besides, there were more garments to sell.

  
Obediently, though, Siobhan did wander as she ate. Her feet took her to the jewellery tents almost instinctively, so she wandered through. Perhaps she might purchase a gift for the woman; Afrie had given her seventy marks – the traditional amount for an eldest child – in the morning before they’d left the shop with the order to buy something for herself or a creature other than us. But, Siobhan wondered, what could she possible buy for seventy marks for a woman like her?

  
As if on cue, a ray of the Golden Sun seemed to bypass all else to shine only on one box. The box was in a tent owned by a male Danube called M’zious who had once apprenticed a friend of Siobhan’s from the academy. Her friend had moved on to Armourwork rather than jewellery, but whenever their paths crossed, M’zious had been kind to Siobhan. Heart pounding, she approached the tent and greeted the Danubian. M’zious’ many orange braids shook as the fur-covered creature greeted her back and motioned to the box. With a deep breath, Siobhan reached over and opened it to reveal a Terran moonstone ring; the ring flashed pink and blue in the light.  
“You father one make many box and box for M’zious. M’zious now give to he daughter one.” As always, Siobhan had to laugh at M’zious and his speech patterns, but her eyes were still transfixed on the ring. Somehow, Siobhan knew it would fit the woman’s hand perfectly. But a Terran stone... even if it was low quality, it was still worth far more than seventy marks.

  
“M’zious, you know I’m not Master Afrie’s daughter, and, besides, I can’t afford that, and you can’t afford to give it to me.”

  
“M’zious can. M’zious sell much. Siobhan take as gift for kind to M’zious.” Siobhan smiled again and agreed, but only if M’zious took her seventy marks, her dessert from her bag and kept the box for another piece.

  
Finally, they agreed and Siobhan returned to Mistress Kyla’s tent with the ring safely on her own finger, turned towards her palm. It was just the fourteenth half-bell, so Siobhan started selling again, much to Kyla’s dismay. Together, they sold all the gowns and most of the tunics, vests, cloaks and doublets – all of which Siobhan had hand embroidered. In fact, one of the doublets was sold to a Master at the Garment Guild, who, after a requisite chastisement to Kyla for letting her apprentice embroider, suggested she sit for her first exam the next week. Now that Siobhan knew they had the money for the test, she was less upset than she thought she’s be at selling all of the gowns; now, Siobhan didn’t have a gown to wear to dance in.

  
At the dusk bells, Mistress Kyla turned to Siobhan and studied her apprentice; she knew well enough what troubled the girl. She hid a smile as she thought of the treat she had for her. There was no need to spoil the surprise early.

  
“Look under the third shelf in the back, girl.” Siobhan did and found a beautiful pink gown and copper-wrought shoes. “I know what you did girl. Don’t blush and try to stammer; you’ve saved us. I knew about the dress and knew you’d sell it, so I made you one of my own. Bet you didn’t see me working on it, thinking yourself so sly making your own. I’m sorry we can’t give you a cape like proper, but we’ve got this. And Afrie made the shoes. I was a girl when I saw my first festival, met my Afrie. Now go, child and meet yours.”

  
Throughout Kyla’s speech, Siobhan stood still as a temple statue, staring at the gown and shoes. Then, she jumped up and, dropping the items on the shelf, she hugged her mistress tightly.

  
“Enough of that, child. Go. It’ll take you half a bell to dress and another to get to the dancing. The festival ends at the midnight hour and Afrie will be waiting for you.”

  
Siobhan tried to hurry, but Kyla was right; by the time she dressed and redressed her hair it was the nineteenth bell. Afrie was waiting in a new doublet that matched her gown. Together, silently, they walked down the long way, past the other merchants, past the food vendors, even past the great Temple, until they reached the courtyard to the Seat proper where the dancing was. Already the music was playing and laughter sounded. Here at the courtyard gates Afrie stopped and turned Siobhan to face him.

  
“I’m not one to talk child and you know it but this is your moment so don’t be afraid of it like I was and nearly lost my Kyla for it so be brave and kind and happy like you always are and above all dear girl: enjoy this night for there will never be another like it.”

  
With that speech done, and said in his usual Cela way, Afrie turned and left. Siobhan took a deep breath, reached down to make sure her ring was still on, and entered the courtyard. It felt like entering into another world; the only light was the full Silver-White Moon and cool, blue candle flame – floating candles at that. All the night-blooming flowers were in full bloom and the walking paths and dancing floor were lined in the fragrant blooms. The courtyard was the Moon Queen personified and reminded Siobhan once again how much she loved and worshipped Her.

  
Speaking of a her... There, in a cool blue Zero silk gown was the woman from earlier. There was a man with her; her brother, no doubt, as he was wearing the green doublet from earlier. And there was her guard, asking her brother to dance and leaving her alone at the edge of the dancing floor. Siobhan decided that it was her turn to be the confident one and approached the woman and asked her to dance. They spun and twirled across the floor, their hair and hemlines twisting together and apart as their bodies moved together. It seemed like forever and it seemed like moments in each other’s arms, and they would not be separated.

  
Suddenly, suddenly? It was the midnight bell. The final bell until dawn. Had the hours really passed? With a final crimson smile, the woman separated their hands and flitted away. Siobhan wanted to cry “no” or “stop, please,” or even “what is your name,” but she was suddenly stiff, unable to move. Then the bells ended and she felt a tap on her shoulder. Expecting to see her woman or her brother or guard, Siobhan was both happy and sad to see Afrie, waiting to take her home.

  
The entire walk Siobhan spoke and spoke about the dance and the woman. Afrie listened and smiled, he knew a match when he saw one and knew they would meet again. Suddenly, mid-sentence, Siobhan stopped. Her ring. Her ring for the woman was missing. And her gloves... And they would never meet again; after all, she didn’t even know her name or have a bonding gift. A bonding gift. Siobhan began to cry; what had been the happiest few hours of her life would now lead to a lifetime of hollowness. Why had she forsaken her gloves? Then she lost the ring and she still doesn’t even know the other girl’s name.

  
Afrie, to his credit, knew he could not comfort her, so he took Siobhan by the shoulders and led her to the shop and his wife. ‘Surely she will know what to do how to help find the girl and besides surely the girl will be looking for Siobhan too; they never left each others’ arms last night.’ He thought; Kyla can fix this.

  
Kyla cannot fix this. She knows that some incomplete bonds fester, some heal – just leave an emptiness behind, but Moon and Sun knows both survive – but some... Some bonds kill. Siobhan will die. And there isn’t anything she or Afrie or M’zious can do about it. Siobhan has already stopped eating all but the most basic gruel and only that when Afrie makes her. M’zious tried his hardest to learn who the marks came from, but the purchase user was anonymous and encrypted to the latest Zero protocol, so no, they can’t hack it. ‘Oh Siobhan,’ Kyla thought in between prayers, ‘why did I have to encourage this for you?’ Kyla could not help but think that she is the one who killed Siobhan.

  
Then... Hope. The High Queen, has lost Her ring. She will meet with those in attendance at the festival to learn who took it from Her; She had only turned away for a moment... This was Kyla’s hope. She thought: ‘Yes; we will go, Siobhan and I. We will beg the Queen to find Siobhan’s one. She will do it; she hates to see her Faithful in pain and Siobhan is as Faithful to the Moon as they come. Not even the Moon’s priestesses are as faithful to their Queen as Siobhan is.’

  
Quickly, Kyla plans, and she and Siobhan prepare to meet the Queen. Siobhan dresses, the same pink dress and copper shoes – of course, Afrie had to fix them after all the dancing – so just in case, she will recognize her. So many people have come, but it is rare to meet the High King or High Queen and the reward is sizable. Siobhan and Kyla wait in a line that stretches halfway to where their tent had been just three days prior. So they wait, with Fornarians, Celi, creatures from Tredad, Danubians, Alleci, even the odd Vrill, Draconi and Arachinosi. And, of course, other Terran-descendents. To pass the time, Kyla suggests Siobhan tell her once again about her woman.

  
Siobhan hardly knows where to begin: her Lieska black hair? Her crimson lips – naturally coloured, not painted? Her white nails? How she danced? Smelled? Smiled? The calm that she feels when she looks upon her? The Warmth? She talks. She talks about all of the things she knows about her and her kindness, the way she seemed to know Siobhan – inside and out. She talks and talks and talks until they reach the courtyard.

  
Here, Kyla is forced by her age to sit and Siobhan falls silent again. Slowly, Kyla smiles to herself; she might know something, but if she is right, there is no use giving it away just yet. Besides, to raise Siobhan’s hopes if she is wrong... But Kyla doesn’t think she is.

  
Once, a long time ago, she met the High Queen. It was even before her first festival; there had been a war between two planets over something silly. Her mother and father were both soldiers. They had fought and died; then, the High King and Queen stopped the war. Being partly Terren-descending, Kyla had been sent to the Royal Seat and placed in the orphanage. The High Queen herself had come and placed a hand upon her head and lessened her grief. Kyla remembered the Queen’s kind words and the calm she felt when she’d touched her. She also remembered the Queen’s beauty and power: Her raven hair, generous red smile, glowing white nails, soft, lingering scent of night-blooming flowers, and, most importantly, the sense of calm She brought to her restless heart.

  
The Dusk bells toll. Finally, they are in the Seat Room itself. Siobhan is tired and in physical pain from her aching heart; Kyla is in pain from the line on her old bones. The line moves quickly now, the High Queen is just dismissing the people who have only come for the reward now. Her power is getting stronger and She is tired of suffering fools, Kyla bets. Finally, finally, it is their turn; Kyla pulls Siobhan forwards and they both bow. Kyla cannot take her eyes off the High Queen; Siobhan can’t look at anything but the floor. Or talk, apparently.

  
“Great Queen, I am Mistress to this woman, Siobhan, who is in need of your help. We do not know where your ring is, but you were once kind to this old orphan child, so I come here now to beg your help.” At the Queen’s surprised look and smile, Kyla goes on. “Oh, Queen, you know that a bond can kill as well as complete, and this girl will die unless she finds the woman she danced with at the festival. Please, help us find her.”

  
The High Queen nodded, and Kyla pushed Siobhan forwards. Siobhan bowed low and then began to talk. “She was kind to me – took pity on me and was generous when she saw I needed marks to stay with my Mistress. She asked only for a smile and a dance, and my kind Mistress made it possible for me to give her that dance, but furthermore, she was the answer to my prayer to you. I begged for a chance to save my family and she gave it to me, and now I can’t live without the warmth that her touch gave me. How odd, since I only felt it for a moment, but now I am frozen.

  
“My Mistress tells me you lost a ring; I did as well, although no doubt a pittance compared to what you must have lost, but it was divined for her, I think. I lost it. Even if I had her name, if she were standing in front of me, I have no token. She has taken my soul in the gown I made for her and my heart with her warmth and kindness.”  
Siobhan stopped, unable to continue further fear of embarrassing herself by collapsing in heap on the floor and sobbing in front of the Queen she worshipped. The Queen remained silent, waiting. The people in line behind Kyla started to groan and shift, but a glance from the Head of the Royal Guard, the King’s Consort ended that quickly. Finally, Siobhan could only whisper one final prayer:

  
_“I promised if someone came, bought the gown I made I would never ask for anything ever again; I was a fool. Please, oh Queen let her live; shine your light upon my Mistress, my mother in all but name and her one, my father. Bless them, and let me die knowing they will be happy.”_

  
The High Queen lifted a hand for Siobhan to kiss to seal her prayer. As Siobhan bent to meet Her hand, she noticed Her ring – a moonstone. Finally, Siobhan looked up at the Queen’s gown – a White-Silver gown with hand embroidery and her dark hair and crimson lips and smile.

  
Both spoke at the same time:  
“I had only turned away to introduce you to my brother. You were gone; only the ring you pressed in my hand remained.”  
“You vanished into the crowd, and my Master was waiting to take me home. I never learned your name.”

  
With a laugh, the Queen stepped off her dais and embraced Siobhan; warmth flooded her body and she felt a completeness that she had never felt before. Then, the Queen pulled back; Siobhan immediately felt the cold return, but the Queen held her hand fast and pulled her onto the dais with her and her brother. Siobhan looked out and saw her Mistress smiling at her, content in her happiness.

  
“I apologize to you, My people, but I lied to you. I ask your forgiveness.” Here the High Queen paused and waited for the gathered to murmur their forgiveness. She then turned to Siobhan, “and to you, I especially owe an apology. I did not lose my ring but rather the one who gave it to me. Twice I turned from you, hoping you were following me, and twice you thought I had left you. Can you forgive me?” Siobhan didn’t even have to think before nodding, unable to speak for shock.

  
“Then, I present you to my Queen’s Consort, my one, for now and all time to come.” The words were old, powerful, and Siobhan knew that they changed things. This was no rich girl but an Immortal Goddess that she was bound to. The gathered all knelt, they all also felt the power swirling around the room. Even Kyla, her Mistress, knelt before her. Siobhan turned to the High Queen again, unsure.

  
“I was raised an orphan, apprenticed out as a dressmaker. I don’t know how to be a Consort...” She trailed off uncertain.

  
“Do you trust me?” The question was soft, gentle and not at all judgemental; Siobhan knew she would not be punished if she said no, but did she? The answer was simple.

  
“Yes.”

  
“Then you will learn. And we will grow together and grow to love each other.”

  
And quietly, in the very back of her mind, Siobhan heard a soft whisper: “Dionearia.”


End file.
